"Very well," she said. "You wasn't to church this morning."
"I was not. I meant coming down the hill again this afternoon, to drink a dish of tea with you, if you please; and though twice up and down the hill be naught to me, yet I shirked it."
They went in together.
"Where's Jerry?" he asked.
"Mooning down to Green Hayes on the chance of getting things right."
"Good. He'll fetch her round; though I doubt she's worth it."
"So do I."
"However, I'm not here, as you'll guess, about your brother. The time has come, Melinda."
"You've let 'em name the day then—Susan and Thomas?"
"No such thing; but they'll be naming it themselves pretty soon. They'll be away in a month or two I expect. And I want for the house to be swept and garnished then. I want a lot done. I've suffered a great deal of undeserved trouble in that quarter, and there's wicked words being said about my treatment of my child. The people have short memories."